translucent
by escapedreality
Summary: She was ethereal, deep burgundy dress robes the only thing keeping her grounded to the earth. SiriusSybill.


**a/n:** A SiriusSybill for BlueEyes444's 100 Challenge

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><p><span>translucent<span>  
><strong>prompt: <strong>see

Sirius Black wasn't superstitious. He never had been, nor did he plan to be. It was all a pile of utter crap, if you were to ask him (which, you would quickly realize, was a bad idea to begin with because that boy could _talk_). He had taken Divination because, well, his friends were and at worst it would be an easy, relaxing class. Right?

What he didn't consider, was the fact that the Professor just might be insane.

Between sprinkling tea leaves all over his class and predicting rosy futures in a foggy glass, Sirius was going to be glad if he made it the year. His robes stank continuously of drying tea (his professor favored Peppermint) and his jaw was likely to ache after putting on a fake smile the whole time, sometimes for twice as long on those miserable days of double Divination. Just the thought of class made him nauseous.

(Because seven kids? He didn't even _like_ children)

...

Walburga, surprisingly, had actually been pleased her son was taking the class. A bright spot for the Black Family, she crowed, after all the brothers' great-great-great grandaunt twice removed had been the granddaughter of a semi-famous Seer who used to live somewhere in eastern Europe... Albania perhaps?

Which is why, at another incredibly boring gathering of 'great pureblooded families', he was all but dragged over to the table where the Trelawny family sat.

"Leonard, Elayna, this is my eldest son, Sirius, who is currently in his third year at Hogwarts. I thought he might enjoy talking to your daughter, as he has taken a great liking to Divination!"

Sirius could have gagged, but knew better than to make a fool of his mother. He had no desire to talk to the Trelawny's daughter- the couple was stiff and a bit bizarre and their daughter could only be similar.

However, when Sybill came over, he almost choked on his glass of water.

When his mother had mentioned the family, it never occurred to him the girl she had been going on about- some relative of another great Seer- was a sixth year prefect in Ravenclaw.

Sybill Trewlawny was a thin girl of seventeen, with dark hair that fell in tight curls to her waist and big, bright blue eyes. She was, Sirius thought, by no means the prettiest girl in the school but she wasn't unpleasant to look at- not at all, actually. She had this _ethereal_ quality about her that was attention consuming- not attracting, consuming.

"Sybill!" her mother squeaked in a high pitched voice, "Come here! We'd like you to meet someone!"

She floated over, deep burgundy dress robes seemingly the only thing keeping her grounded to the earth.

"Yes?"

"Sybill, this is Sirius Black. He's started taken Divination this year at school and perhaps you two could discuss it somewhere?"

"Yes, Papa."

She gave him barely a glance, taking a glass of firewhiskey from the table, and striding toward the open lawns of the Lestrange household.

"Well, come on then."

...

If he was going to be honest with himself, the conversation was as boring as expected. She kept going on and on about the stars and planets and it probably didn't help that astronomy was another subject he didn't pay much attention in.

So, when she offered to read his palm, he decided he needed to grab hold of the situation if there was any hope of salvaging the night to make it Marauder worthy.

"You see, this is your-"

He cut her off, pulling her closer to him and planting an awkward kiss on the lips of the pretty sixth year. She pulled away violently from the boy, glaring at him with an unexpected ferocity.

"You little twat," she said, wiping her mouth on the back of her sleeve, in a move Sirius found was wholly unnecessary on her part. She crossed her arms angrily and Sirius ran his hands through his hair, a habit he'd learned from James and never really sought to correct. Sybill eyed him coldly.

"So really, this was just a large waste of my time, now wasn't it?"

Sirius shrugged, "Not really , you can now say you've had the almost imponderable pleasure of kissing Sirius Black."

"Ugh, do you even _take_ Divination?" she huffed.

"Yes, same old shit everyday. Don't tell me you actually believe it? 'You'll have a long happy life, you'll have a gazillion kids, you'll be famous'. It's all a bunch of crap really. Professor Floyd is off his rocker!" Sirius said with a laugh of casual disinterest. To his surprise, Sybill gave her own little laugh, a harsh sound that he would have never thought she could emit.

"Of course he's an idiot," she said disdainfully, "He doesn't have a drop of Seer blood in him, I'd wager. A real Seer knows there's more to life than rosy fortune telling. If you give me your palm, without any tricks, I can show you."

Raising an eyebrow, Sirius extended a hand. Sybill flipped it over, gripping tightly. He resolved not to grimace, as he was sure that was the reaction she was trying to get from him.

"Your life-line runs here," she said tracing it with a long nail, "But it's crossed here," she indicated a small indentation that he never would have noticed on his own.

"Meaning?" he asked. She gave another harsh bark of laughter.

"Meaning your life is going to be far from rosy, my little Casanova."

Sirius withdrew his hand quickly, staring at it, wondering if fate could really be written on his skin. He pushed superstition once again to the recesses of his mind and retorted angrily, "You're just upset I pulled a fast one."

She gave him a hard stare, her eyes like ice, "Tell me that the next time we talk."

...

Twelve Grimuald Place was gloomy as ever, even with the Order meeting there. Sirius, far older than he had been at 13, both physically and mentally, was going to lose it in this monotony.

That was, until a familiar face showed up alongside Dumbledore one evening.

Sybill Trelawny had changed since he'd last spoken to her. Then again, so had he, so he really wasn't one to talk. But nevertheless, he couldn't understand why.

Large, be-speckled glasses covered up bright eyes and once tame curls formed a mane of frizz around her thin face. A patterned kerchief attempted to hold her hair in it's place but appeared to be not having much effect. Skirts and shawls layered on her weren't even necessary to keep her grounded- somewhere along the way ethereal had disappeared and reality seemed to have encompassed her. Bangles lining her arms shook with every movement and with every movement, she seemed to be checking over her shoulder.

Dumbledore introduced her to the group at hand, many recognizing her from their own school years or as a colleague (Professor Floyd had, to the relief of many, retired years ago). She glanced over the table, spotting him in the far corner. Even through his general scruffiness, she recognized the little twat of years past.

...

She approached him after the meeting, in the small tapestry room, where Sirius never did find that great great- whoever the hell he was related to. She leaned against the doorway.

"Life not so rosy, eh Sirius?" she asked, mocking. Sirius whipped around fiercely.

"I'm not dead though. Which proves you the idiot."

"Yet anyway," she said ominously, "besides, I thought you though it a load of crap, why should you have ever worried about what I told you then?"

Sirius paused, hesitating. He never did believe it, yet when someone predicts your death...

She took his silence as an answer, "Perhaps your sight is not as opaque as I once believed."

She left the room, a mass of clicking bracelets and flowing skirts, as maybe, just maybe, Sirius thought he saw a glimpse of the ethereal girl that once was.

...

The Battle at the Ministry is exactly five months after this and when Bellatrix hits him, he feels himself falling, realizing that this was the end and that there was no turning back.

And that Sybill, in the end, was right.

He dies with his eyes wide open, seeing everything.

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><p><strong>an:** I hope that was alright. It's clearly not a pairing I write all too often.


End file.
